AN: Argh I am trying to update Jackal or Halberd and nope. This demands out.
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The group stood together looking at the corpse of what had been a terribly deadly dragon, and once a witch of the Wilds. It was eerie, solemn, and they were very badly injured on the whole. Potions had needed to be used up and not a single one of them was capable of healing magic or determining if the various items within the hut were safe for consumption. It was saying quite a lot that Sten had a broken clavicle and sword arm, Surana was struggling with walking unless leaning almost all of his body weight upon his staff. Alistair had fared the best, ironically from running around in almost circles but keeping the snapping jaws of Flemeth focused about his frame almost as often as the jets of flame had been. Leliana had been constantly striking and redirecting but neither bow nor daggers did much good against the hide of an immense dragon.
Perhaps that was half of the solemn air. Before their eyes the corpse was sinking in on itself in a rapid decay that rendered bones visible before long, robbing them of hide and scale which macabre as it was would still likely have been salvageable. Within a few minutes there was not even bones remaining, merely ashes that blew away in the wind leaving the only proof anything once was there the destroyed area around, and the hut. A small key as well, covered in dirt where the body had once lain.
It was, each of the four exchanged a glance, very peculiar and uncomfortable sorcery to witness. As if the haunting words the old crone had given to each of them had not been bad enough. How easily she had accepted they would not be lying to Morrigan, though Surana had not considered that for a moment. Inside Leliana went to open a few chests and look around, Sten and Alistair waiting outside and Surana trusting the thief would know what to look for better than they would. The former chantry lay sister however, felt uneasy.
It was all too clean. Too orderly in a mischievously haphazard fashion. This was not the sort of way things were scattered when you lived like this but as if planned. Laid out. She'd been subjected to enough traps in her life to be ever so wary. Yet nothing attacked or tripped or even lit up when she finally had secured the grimoire and a second book that looked useful. There were even a few smaller things that Leliana thought Morrigan may want.
You know the problem with those whom are loyal, is they never forget.
Leliana hesitated, hand about to pull down a staff that was in the corner remembering that Saeris had damaged hers before they departed. Those words...it had seemed the others shrugged them off but they bit deep into Leliana's thoughts and held fast. Because she adored her 'sister' figure in the capricious mage but there was no doubt the canine shifter was loyal to Flemeth. In a way not even the witches' own daughter had been. There was a sort of gloating in the tone that had cackled those words out, not that any would be surprised if Flemeth knew something they all did not.
The terrifying thought had taken hold though and Leliana knew her instincts were very good. After all that she had lived through they had needed to become that way. And so when her sensation that there were levels of something even beyond The Game happening ate at her nerves, the former lay sister and bard knew better than to simply dismiss her unease. But perhaps, in actions she could prove her apologies where words would fail. Licking her lips she grasped the strange staff, so simple and plain as it was there were wolf teeth hanging down and it was a memento of the crone. Perhaps, just perhaps, it would help ease the betrayal she had caused on her dear friend's behalf.
Whether she would forgive Leliana her part in this remained to be seen.
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Every inn had a different level of natural light that came in to the common room. Some had expensive glass panes, other just wooden slats that could open or close as need be. The room that they had acquired to all share in Denerim was one oft lent to groups traveling to the capital and had four beds, barely wide enough for a single person on their side but they were clean. The room was clean, the bedding free of infestations, and their room had a small window to let in the day's light as well as air. The common area however was nicer than many the older mage had been in. True, it was all faded and worn with time but the sturdy wooden furnishings and sun bleached rugs were as such thanks to the multitude of windows that dotted up high in the common area. The cost of such glass certainly had been a princely sum back when built, and now the lower areas were wooden slat windows perhaps broken in various skirmishes from patrons or rowdy youths throwing things. Mayhaps even removed and sold at some point. The stories to be told in the bones of such buildings always left Wynne's mind wondering. After all, look at what tales she could tell before and now she held a second passenger as Faith kept her heart beating. Through her eyes they both sought out curiosities in their surroundings, sharing the wonder and pleasure in such common moments.
All in all, it made for a very pleasant location to break their fast come the first meal of the day. Wynne had noticed the rather bleary eyed expressions on both Zevran and her apprentice that morning, for all that Saeris did her best to hide it swiftly. Chuckling at the tell tale whisper of healing magic that sang along Wynne's senses she hummed softly to herself over a cup of tea. As though in her years Wynne had never seen the healing of a hangover! Morrigan was off perusing the market once more, Zevran had begged away for himself insisting he was just to gather information but the strange expression to his features made Wynne ever so curious as to what that scamp had been up to. Saeris seemed at ease. Wynne had taught the girl for years however, and the tells were there to be read most easily on the otherwise serene seeming red head. Her heart was heavy and there were no more distractions from the loss to come. Twice already Saeris had knocked things over, her hands shaking and splashing water and tea upon the table as her eyes seemed to struggle to focus. Any moment now the mentor the girl had before Wynne met her back in the tower may perish and that soft insistence of the spirit of Faith along her heart seemed to thrumm in a way that suggested they needed time away from the city. Perhaps where the blight had not yet gone and fully started to reach through the landscape outside the walls. A swift walk for the day.
How fascinating it was to have that same calming prescence always there in the Fade now along her own heart and mind, coursing in her veins and hinting at what it wished her to do. Well, her spirit friend surely had even more experience with guiding others considering the gap in age they held and if it wished her to take her young apprentice -their young apprentice? Yes, she had the feeling Faith was taking that role with her and felt the same as they shared the body- out to grieve. It was a good idea.
"Saeris. I think we had best go gather herbs." Wynne issued the soft command and noticed the bob of the younger's head in response though the eyes did not sharpen in clarity. Shapeshifting was not an art that Wynne was familiar with, indeed it was frowned upon by many in the circle for the fact it could skew the rational mind of a human or elf towards something much more dangerous and peculiar. Yet, most who chose such a path did not cleave to only one other form and if anything the choice of such a loyal creature as her other skin had only done good for the girl. Obedient she had always been, at least outwardly in appearances, and now having taken the younger mage in as her apprentice there was a level of loyalty and trust beginning to unfurl that always felt so bittersweet to Wynne. Remembering her first apprentice whom she had failed.
So no, Wynne would not judge Saeris the magics that called to her especially in these most deadly of moments with the Blight and horrors coming to them. Perhaps it was fated after all, she was of Chasind stock, the wilderness was in her very nature. And if the knowledge of a soon to perish mentor caused Saeris's heart to bleed in agony, Wynne knew the loss herself from the other side and would do what she could to ease the pain. They were not disturbed as the two at either end of their magical studies, one newly still graduated in name for all she'd passed her harrowing years ago and the other a senior enchanter passed through the gates once more. Considering only Wynne had a staff though, the white haired mage quirked her lips at the most likely reason the guards did not even give them a glance.
"Hm, I have a walking staff, women often wear robes such as ours..we must look a doting grandmother and her recalcitrant granddaughter out to forage for the stew pot." Wynne let her dry tone do the work and felt entirely pleased as a bark of startled laughter pulled free from Saeris.
"Were knitting needles your only weapon, I think even the darkspawn would flee in terror." The response was rough and clearly pulled from a throat clogged with grief but still there.
"You're not too old for me to put over my knee girl." Wynne smirked teasingly and shook her staff in imitation of a wizened old one threatening a disobedient neighbor brat who kept stealing their tomatoes from the porch garden.
A dancing pair of citrine eyes met Wynne's own and flared nostrils betrayed the laugh the younger girl was holding back.
"You sure that wouldn't shatter your hip?"
Such idle banter followed them as Wynne moved away from the common trails into sun dappled grass with trees in the distance. Fields instead of forests, but these were ones that laid fallow for a time to recoup after periods of harvest. They would have privacy out here. Elfroot did grow in the area, and a few other herbs they found useful, each pausing time to time to wriggle one's stubborn roots from the ground.
"Ah, I do believe this is far enough." Wynne stated as she turned, her eyes and senses, that of her passenger also stretched out to test the area. Yes, safe and far to the point that if screams or sobs emerged none would be passing to hear. Dangerous, considering the dark spawn but Wynne felt confident that she could handle that. A few glyph wards would do much of the work for them and whilst she had not felt the need to share her ability, well it seemed Faith could tell when darkspawn were present. There was no reason to further alarm the others with knowledge that spirits were so much more than was thought. Gracefully enough despite her age, Wynne sat down and patted her side along the earth. When Saeris joined her with far less caution, all but flopping herself down as if she was wrapped in her fur hide again, Wynne then tugged the girl closer. With little work she had Saeris positioned so her head was in her lap, fingers working through the unadorned copper hued hair. "You needn't hide your grief from me."
She'd witnessed the paling skin, the wide eyes and trembling lips. How Saeris as they were on the way to their current location clutched at her heart and choked back a sob before falling silent the rest of the way. No banter or teasing remarks could seem to pull a sound from the girl even now abusing her lip as she bit it hard to keep back the sounds that made her form shake as she held them within.
"Saeris, child, you needn't say a word. Just grieve. I'll watch over you. You're safe here." Because the young woman didn't need to be judged or coached on how 'she'd get over it in time' you didn't. You became used to the gnawing loss but it was never easier. Wynne could feel against her thighs the exact moment Saeris leapt forward to trust her as the shaking turned violent and her face twisted into the fabric of Wynne's robe to muffle the keening sobs torn from her lungs. It was not a pretty sound, hysterical loss and grief that hollowed you out never was. With the wild howls of a dog at times overlapping it became eerie.
Wynne didn't say anything, just kept running her fingers through the soft hair currently loose to help hide Saeris's features. A quiet watch guard as her apprentice fell to pieces. The level of trust made Wynne blink back her own tears.
Eventually, Saeris was emptied, could not cry even once more, her sobs having become heaving breaths and slowly evening as the exhausted mage fell asleep.
Wynne just smiled sadly. Until her apprentice woke, Wynne would ensure that she had these few moments to grieve. She could do that for her.
Faith and Wynne would make certain she had at least a little time.
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